Hello to all those faithfully reading and hopefully enjoying this effort to make even the worst horror movie more watcha... aw, screw that - I'm not that good. If a movie makes you cringe because yet another batch of unlikable teens that are pushing 30 are inching toward their deaths, having a party no one does anywhere ever, a paranormal movie is boring you to tears with unending pans of empty rooms, or thanks to CGI technology when people finally bite it, their blood squirts everywhere except on the victim, the ground, the people next to them... you're in good company and this is the right place for you.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

IF YOU'RE TALKING EXPLOITATION, YOU MAY BE TALKING JACK HILL PART FOUR

Foxy Brown (1974)

No you young whippersnappers I am NOT referring to the female rapper of the same name. She wasn't even BORN yet when this movie was made. And I'm sorry, but Pam Grier has it all over that young lady as far as looks and talent. And that's TODAY people, not just when she was younger.This movie was to showcase Pam Grier, with music by Willie Hutch, but the script follows along other Jack Hill movies.

Pam, who has a heroin pushing brother (Antonio Fargas - if you're just a little older you knew him as 'Huggy Bear' in Starsky and Hutch - if you're still scratching your head, skip it) is waiting for the release of her boyfriend from the hospital.

No he's not there for sexual exhaustion, he's an informant who's had plastic surgery to hide his identity (although he stays with Pam who was known as his girlfriend - duh) and when the bandages come off, he's Colonel Tigh (Terry Carter)! Sigh, you don't know who that is, do you? Battlestar Galactica? The REAL one, not the one where everybody turns out to be a bloody Cylon.

Anywho, Huggy Bear is in trouble 'cause he's a few bucks short on a shipment and Colonel Tigh has a price on his head. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who Foxy's new man is so Huggy Bear turns him in for the money. Nice. Colonel Tigh doesn't last even five minutes past that before he's shot down right in front of Foxy.

Now Foxy's no cop. She's not a detective, undercover, not an official anything. But she's mean and she's mad and that's enough. She goes on a one-woman rampage to wipe out the syndicate - no small task since they've paid off cops, judges, jurors, etc. plus having the required bevy of women who hate to wear tops to provide to the apparently all male system of justice. This is the 70's after all. You've got the language, the sexual biases, and heroin and cocaine run freely. Just recently a very popular TV personality got fired for saying a certain word - well, if your sensitive ears don't like that kind of language, better pass on this movie 'cause I think they use every derogatory race word in the urban dictionary.

She pieces together that the murderers run a 'modeling agency' and plans to infiltrate it to destroy them from the inside. When sent with a fellow 'model' to entertain some men of official position (which seemed to be sitting with topless women on their laps) she and the other lure a judge into the bedroom, strip him of his boxers and shove him out into the hallway where a bunch of prim and proper older ladies beat him with their purses and umbrellas (no I have no idea why they had umbrellas since it was summer).

I was afraid we were going to get a very saggy sight of old man butt - however I guess that was a little too much even for Jack Hill, so this judge had tighty whities under his boxers. Dumb but a relief, trust me.

So eventually Foxy finds out that there's going to be a big shipment coming in from just over the Mexican border. The pilot (Sid Haig of course, although not being in the movie until over an hour into it) is of course persuaded by Foxy's charms to let her ride with him in his little plane to the site. Once there she kicks major ass and, although we don't get to see (apparently men's privates are no-no's but women's....) she cuts off the leader's, uh, favorite body parts and puts them in a jar, sending them to his girlfriend.

This leads to a frenzy of violence that Foxy, of course triumphs over 'cause there's 'a whole lotta fight in that woman'. And one dealer is done. And so is this movie. And so is my look into exploitation 'cause there's a whole lotta nausea in me.

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About Miss Murder

Thanks to good ole' Google whining about some missing ad revenue, we are being squeezed out (even the tiny ones like me) by the increasingly stupid and invasive standards of practice they keep adopting while trying to tell us it was that way all along. Meanwhile they rub their hands together thinking about all that Red Tube and YouTube TV money coming in - content creators be damned.